


Crying Shame

by creativenamesareoverated



Category: Tales of - Fandom, Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Genderfluid Mikleo, Genderfluid! Mikleo, M/M, Non-Binary Mikleo, Nonbinary! Mikleo, Post-Canon, Sorey is a good boyfriend, all should be like Sorey, confusedleo, saddleo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2016-11-07
Packaged: 2018-08-29 16:21:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8496973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creativenamesareoverated/pseuds/creativenamesareoverated
Summary: When Sorey and Mikleo were ten, Sorey started noticing Mikleo was different from the other men in the village. He often caught Mikleo admiring a pretty skirt, or girly jewels. When the other men in the village told Mikleo he needed to grow up to be manlier, he crinkled his nose and made a longing expression. Mikleo wanted to prove to Sorey that he was strong, but he never once tried to prove himself to be “more of a man.”	When they were both thirteen, Sorey started to become worried. Not because he thought Mikleo should “man up”, but because Mikleo seemed to have convinced himself that he did. He didn’t necessarily become rebellious, but he became rowdier, more controlling and worst of all Sorey had the awful feeling that Mikleo was hiding something, hiding something from him. Sometimes he would catch his friend staring at himself in a mirror for far too long, and not out of arrogance, or self-admiration. Sometimes when he looked in a mirror he looked genuinely confused, and a bit sad.	When they were fourteen, Sorey had had enough.





	

**Author's Note:**

> OkaY SO THIS WAS REALLY QUICK SO I'M SORRY BUT I COULDN'T HELP MYSELF. This was inspired by a headcannon on somefinelipstickonthatpig's sleepover thing on Tumblr. Hopefully I did NB Meebo justice. xc

              When Sorey and Mikleo were ten, Sorey started noticing Mikleo was different from the other men in the village. He often caught Mikleo admiring a pretty skirt, or girly jewels. When the other men in the village told Mikleo he needed to grow up to be manlier, he crinkled his nose and made a longing expression. Mikleo wanted to prove to Sorey that he was strong, but he never once tried to prove himself to be _“more of a man.”_

When they were both thirteen, Sorey started to become worried. Not because he thought Mikleo should “man up”, but because Mikleo seemed to have convinced himself that he did. He didn’t necessarily become rebellious, but he became rowdier, more controlling and worst of all Sorey had the awful feeling that Mikleo was hiding something, _hiding something from him._ Sometimes he would catch his friend staring at himself in a mirror for far too long, and not out of arrogance, or self-admiration. Sometimes when he looked in a mirror he looked genuinely confused, and a bit sad.

 

              When they were fourteen, Sorey had had enough.

 

              “Mikleo,” Sorey asked gently, having caught his friend spacing out with far too sad of an expression to be thinking about history. The boy flinched at Sorey’s soft voice, and turned around towards him.

 

              “What is it, Sorey?” Mikleo replied, plastering a fake smile onto his face. Sorey frowned, got up and sat next to his friend. So close that their shoulders were brushing and their knees touched if one of them moved a millimeter. Mikleo gave Sorey a concerned look, “Is something wrong? You look sad.” He observes.

 

              “Yeah.” Mikleo tilted his head at Sorey in inquiry, “It’s you.” This, startled Mikleo greatly. A look of anxiety and slight panic crawled onto his face.

 

              “W-what? Did I do something-“

 

              “No, you didn’t do anything, that’s the problem.” Mikleo starts at the firm tone that he’s hardly ever heard Sorey use. It’s a tone Mikleo had yet to realize Sorey only used when he was sincerely concerned about someone. “You’re keeping something from me, what is it?” Sorey suddenly appeared in front of Mikleo, sitting on his knees and leaning into him, as if staring at his face a little closer would unlock the secrets to the universe. Mikleo brought his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, hugging them as if they were all he had left to hold onto.

 

              “Don’t worry about it, I’m just… Trying to figure something out,” The albino attempted to explain. “I-I don’t really know what’s wrong yet, so I can’t really give you an answer.” Sorey’s expression grows confused at this. He rocks back, away from Mikleo and appears to go into deep thought.

 

              “Well then, we don’t need to put a label on it, just tell me how you feel.”

 

              Mikleo stared at Sorey, and then appeared to grow agitated. Something inside the boy’s eyes seemed to shatter, “Dammit Sorey _I don’t know how I feel_. That’s the problem!” Sorey very visibly flinched, utterly surprised by Mikleo’s sudden outrage, and even cursing (even if it’s mild). “Somedays I feel normal, sometimes I feel like a guy. Like I’m _supposed to feel._ Other days, I-I don’t. I don’t know how to explain it but-“ Mikleo choked, and Sorey watched for a second with horror as tears began to run down the boy’s face before jumping into action. He cupped his best friend’s face in his hands while they aggressively try to wipe away their own tears. Leaning into him and pushing his knees away from his chest, positioning himself in between them.

 

              “Shh, Mikleo you’re okay, it’s okay.” Sorey whispers, attempting to comfort the mess in front of him. Sorey desperately began whipping away his tears, pushing Mikleo’s hands out of his own face.

 

              “I’m fine,” Mikleo whimpered, his silvery hair shifting and catching the window’s light as he shook his head. Sorey burried both of his hands in that silvery hair, forcing Mikleo’s head up and making him look him in the eye.

 

              “No, not you’re not fine,” the voice was so full of pity it trembled. The frail boy bit his lip so hard Sorey was sure it would bleed, before launching himself into Sorey. He draped one arm overtop Sorey’s shoulder and pulled the other underneath his opposite armpit, and cried. He sobs, and shakes and mumbles incoherent things under his breath. It’s was minutes before Mikleo stopped, but for Sorey it felt like hours.

 

              “Sorey,” Mikleo whimpered, still not daring to move away from his friend.

 

              “What Mikleo,” Sorey whispered softly in return, resting his cheek on top of the albino’s silvery hair.

 

              “Am I pretty?” He mumbled. This shocked Sorey at first, but slowly a smile appeared across his face. He moved his cheek away from the smaller boy’s head, and he felt Mikleo tense.

 

              “Of course.” He mumbled into Mikleo’s ear, nuzzling his nose into the boy’s hair. He felt Mikleo press against his shoulder harder.

 

              “…Am I handsome?” Mikleo asked hesitantly.

 

              Sorey’s smile only broadened, “Very.”

 

* * *

 

 

              When they were sixteen, Sorey learned to appreciate the little things. Like the way his lover kept his nails the perfect length, or always kept his hair perfectly neat. The little, ever so subtle traits of femininity that he dared show. Sorey was positive no one else noticed them, but he did. He always did, and he always smiled when he saw them.

 

              Mikleo himself still hadn’t entirely figured the situation out, the best he had done to explain his feelings was, _“Somedays I wake up feeling like a boy, other days I wake up feeling like a girl.”_ Both of them had outwardly stopped trying to put a label on it forever ago, but Sorey knew he still had inner turmoil about it.

 

              “I’m broken,” Mikleo had told Sorey once. _“Why am I broken, what am I? Who am I? Why me?”_

The saddest part was Sorey knew Mikleo still thought these things daily, even if he never said them out loud anymore.

 

              Sorey continued rubbing his lover’s delicate hand, “Hey, Princess?”

 

              “Yes Sorey?”

 

              “You’re beautiful.”

 

              Mikleo’s pale cheeks promptly lit on fire.

 

* * *

 

 

              Mikleo was 534. He had separated from the rest of the group the second Rose’s small funeral was over, putting Uno in his place as water seraph for any future Shepherds. For a long while he had gone to visit Edna, but the last time he had seen her his hair was barely down to his shoulder, and it now reached down below his waist.

 

              The second he separated from the group his hair had sub-consciously started growing longer. Partially, for the need of change, but later he kept it because for once, he actually felt pretty and comfortable.  He found he enjoyed braiding it, pulling it back in buns and making it curly at his whim. In the end, his long hair became his life force. Anxiety attacks were stopped with complicated braids or brushing, anxiety attacks were stalled by twirling his hair around his finger. It felt comfortable, it felt right and most of all he felt incredibly feminine. 

 

              In his hundreds of years of wandering aimlessly he grew comfortable in his own skin, nobody around to care about how he felt gender-wise, or in general. He could do whatever he wanted, feel however he wanted and look however he wanted and there would be no one to stop him, no one to ask questions, no one to tell him it was strange or most of all no one to make him feel _broken._

Occasionally he stopped and wondered what Sorey would think, in the end he decided to let himself to believe Sorey would be proud.

 

* * *

 

 

              Sorey woke up fully aware of who he was, where he was, and how he got here. Maotelus and generously saved all of his memories in return for everything Sorey had done. He stared down at his now long hair, and smiled when he saw the yellow ended tips.

 

              _Lightning Seraph, just like gramps._

He got up, and suddenly it occurred to him that he had no idea how much time had passed since he was asleep. He looked around, looking for a clue for how old the ruins now were. He was surprised to find the room he was in spotless and well-polished.

 

              _“There’s someone waiting for you,”_ boomed a voice. Sorey covered his ears in vain attempt to make the throbbing in his head stop. _“I think you’ll be able to find them on your own.”_ Sorey took a breath, and bravely faced the opening to the maze of ruins.

 

              _Where are you Mikleo?_

* * *

 

He stared down at the boy-no, man bellow him.

 

              His eyes were glittering, a fond gentle expression was on his face, one Mikleo only wore when he was looking at Sorey. Mikleo move one arm and grabbed Sorey’s hand, “Are you going to pull me up or just let me dangle here?” His voice was choked. Sorey blinked, startling out of his trance.

 

              “A-ah, right!” He squeaked, struggling to pull his beloved out of the gaping hole in the ground. “Umph!” Sorey explained as his lover ungracefully landed on top of him, but neither of them bothered to move from their position on the floor.

 

              Finally, Mikleo lifted himself off of Sorey’s chest, and for the first time Sorey got a good look at the man.

 

              _“Holy shit,”_ was all Sorey managed to choke out. Mikleo laughed, it sounded like dainty bells jingling on a collar, even though his eyes had hints of anxiety growing in them.

 

              “Do you like it?” Mikleo asked, rocking back and sitting on top of Sorey. He began twirling his hair over his finger, weather he was doing it consciously or not Sorey couldn’t tell.

 

              “Do you?” Sorey asked softly, pulling himself up and positioning his lover in his lap.

 

              “Mmm,” Mikleo hummed shyly, burying the top of his head into Sorey’s chest. He whispered, “I do.”

 

              Sorey kissed the back of Mikleo’s head, and he swore Mikleo made a tiny squeak. “I love it,” Sorey replied confidently. “It suits you.” He felt Mikleo relax, his head sliding down Sorey’s chest nearly an inch before moving to burry itself into his shoulder. Mikleo wrapped his arms around Sorey, in a very, very similar fashion to when they were fourteen.

 

              “Mikleo… How old are you now?”

 

              “534.”

 

              Sorey pulled Mikleo away from him, gripping his face in his hands. “No way, tell me you’re joking.” Mikleo’s eyes darted to look anywhere but Sorey’s face, which was difficult since they were so close. He shook his head, and Sorey began to tremble. “I’m so sorry I was gone for so long,” he chocked, wrapping his arms around Mikleo and pulling him even further into his lap. He brought his knees up so that Mikleo slid forward, completely incased in Sorey. And then, Mikleo began to cry. But not like when they were fourteen, not at all. Mikleo _wailed_ , Mikleo _screamed._ He wailed and screamed for his confusion, for being betrayed by his own family, for Zenerus’s death, for allowing his mother to die, for Sorey leaving, for ditching the others, for leaving everyone and everything he ever knew behind.

 

              _He wailed because he was so fucking happy._

* * *

 

**BONUS BECAUSE I COULDN’T HELP MYSELF:**

“Sorey!” Zaveid yelled, slapping the man joyfully on the back. “A lightning seraph eh?”

 

              “I suppose it makes sense,” Lailah giggled. “After all, water conducts lightning. And I don’t think there’s a better way to symbolize you two’s relationship.”

 

              “Speaking of which, where is that little rat?” Edna asked, looking around Sorey’s old hut for evidence of the water seraph. Sorey swore he saw concern in her eyes.

 

              “He was visiting Ladylake, he should be back anytime now though…”

 

              And at that, Mikleo promptly burst through the door. He was out of breath, as if he had just run for two day’s straight. He slammed the door behind him and ran up to Sorey, paying no head to his friends whom he hadn’t seen in hundreds of years and instead stopping only millimeters from Sorey’s face.

 

              _His eyes were on fire._

“Sorey!” He yelled, grabbing his lover’s cheeks and bouncing on his feet. “There’s a name for what I’m called Sorey!” Sorey stared at the man’s huge smile, and alight eyes. He looked so complete, so full, so _alive._

 

              “Wha-“

 

              “I’m genderfluid.” The man said, suddenly seeming to become serious. Tears rimmed his eyes and he enveloped Sorey in a hug, _“I’m really not broken.”_ He choked into Sorey’s shoulder. All eyes were turned towards them, clearly no one else following this conversation but they themselves. Sorey began stroking his hand through his lover’s long hair, and buried his face into the top of his head.

 

              “Of course you aren’t,” Sorey murmured. “I thought we already confirmed this.”

 

              “Y-yeah but,” Mikleo stuttered, pulling away and placing his hands on Sorey’s chest. “T-there are other people like me. Like it’s an actual _thing._ ”

 

              Sorey laughed, and kissed his lover on the bridge of his nose, a squeak erupting from the genderfluid man. “Glad you’re happy, Princess.”

 

              _“Holy shit Meebo your hair,”_ Edna said, deciding to be the one to break up the lover’s moment. Mikleo turned towards her and blushed, Sorey laughed, and Edna hit Mikleo over the head with her umbrella.

 

              _Some things never change._

**Author's Note:**

> Oh and yes, after Mikleo comes out Sorey starts calling him "Princess" when they're alone because hE'S A SWEETHEART.


End file.
